


Moon will Be Rising Back Home

by galacticlourry (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Kid Fic, Louis is sick, M/M, aw bless, i literally just named all the kids nautical themed i think i did pretty well, i might be allergic to fluff actually, i think, maybe it'll happen one day if they let me name their kids, there's fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:34:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/galacticlourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ocean nods and does her impression of a wink—closing both of her eyes and scrunching up her nose. Louis watches her tiptoe over to the six foot, pajama-clad boy before launching herself onto his calves. “Papa please, pretty please, a thousand cherry peppers on top,” </p><p> </p><p>Or the one where Louis and Harry are fathers to five-under-five and it's snowing outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moon will Be Rising Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> I am totally a sucker for writing kid!fics and there are five kids because why the hell not right? Fucking Styles-Tomlinson family grrr you make me sweat.
> 
>  
> 
> *Title is based off of my favourite song from Midnight Memories and um has nothing to do with the fic itself. And ok disclaimer, right. Um this is totally fiction because I rather write a oneshot than do my AP World History essay. Ha.

Louis knows he is sick when he wakes up, credit due to the feeling of a stuffed nose and a cotton tongue. Opening his eyes to slits, he debates staying in bed for a little longer, his stomach rumbling to support the ‘get your arse up’ decision. The curtains are already open, bathing the room with early morning light. “Sheesh,” Louis mutters through clenched teeth when his bare feet touch the cold wooden planks of the floor. He shuffles over to peer out the window, the earth dusted with the beginning of winter’s first snowstorm and Louis’ inner child may or may not be causing his stomach to flip with giddiness. Could be an urge to throw up, but then again. 

 

Harry shuffles across the room to where Louis is peering out the shades, steaming cuppa held between the pads of his hands. Louis turns around and grins when he sees the tea, taking it from Harry with a muttered morning greeting. “It’s snowing outside.” Louis says, voice croaky and ew. Totally not sexy.

 

“Yeah,” Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and presses his lips to the lad’s feverish forehead. “And you’re sick.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes because yeah, obvious meets obvious. “But I mean it’s really snowing like, we should take the kids outside when they wake up.”

 

Harry laughs and shakes his head because that is honestly ridiculous. “No, no we shouldn’t do anything when the kids wake up. In fact, you,” he stabs a finger into the middle of Louis’ bare chest to punctuate, “should be writhing in the sheets with heat flashes, not gazing out at a blizzard.”

 

Louis continues to sip on the tea before pursing his lips together. “You’re not the boss of me, Styles.”

 

“You’re so sassy babe, even when you’re ill. That’s hot.”

 

“Ew,” Louis playfully shoves Harry away, yet Harry doesn’t move because he’s like made out of some sort of rock. “Don’t flirt with me, you weirdo. I’m sick.”

 

“But you’re so hot with your raspy voice and snot-filled nostrils—“

 

“Harry shut up!” Louis whisper-yells, his eyes are crinkling at his idiot though so Harry keeps going.

 

“And when mucus comes out of your throat, woo-wee, I fall in love all over again.”

 

“I hate you.”

 

“But I loooovvvveeeeee you.” Harry tucks his head down, going in to lick Louis’ face. 

 

“Get away from me you wanker!” Louis leans out of Harry’s taut grip on his waist and laughs as he feels feather-soft fingertips trail up his sides. “Stop before—“ They both let out a gasp as the porcelain cup falls to the floor, brown liquid seeping between Lou’s toes and Harry’s socked feet.

 

“You’re so dumb.” Louis shakes his head as he steps out of Harry’s arms and around the mess. 

 

“At least it’s not white carpet, huh.” Harry says as a laugh finds its way up his throat. Louis rolls his eyes as he sees the boy—the man—trying to hold back a fucking giggle fit. 

 

“You’re cleaning it up Harry.”

 

“But—“

 

Louis shakes his hips and begins to walk out the room, “Last time I checked I’m the only one with a proper butt in this house. So get to cleaning.” 

 

†

 

The house begins to become lively about thirty minutes later while Louis and Harry are snuggled on the living room couch watching the Claymation of Rudolph. Little patters of feet float up and down the hallway to the living room and suddenly two of the five toddlers are standing in front of the television in their pajamas. Caspian rubs his eyes with a fist and Finnegan sucks on his pacifier—much to Louis’ annoyance. Louis groans from where he is huddled underneath a blanket, muttering something along the lines of “fucking binky”. Harry chuckles and rubs his husband’s back soothingly, “Good morning boys.” 

 

“Morning Papa,” the twins say simultaneously and it’s like. Louis and Harry used to do that—they still do and it’s just…weird seeing it from the other side. “Hi Da-da.” Finn says around his pacifier, tottering over to Louis. 

 

“Hello little boy,” Louis says, hooking his pinky into the loopy-thing. He pulls slightly and Finn’s green eyes grow wide as he snaps back. “It’s my Assy,” Finn whines and when Louis shoots Harry a glare, he chuckles because like. 

 

“It’s Passy, Finn.” Harry says, bopping Caspian on the nose. 

 

“It’s he-doesn’t-need-a-fucking-pacifier-at-two-years-old.” Louis croaks, pulling the cocoon of blanket tighter around his face.

 

Caspian and Finn both drop their mouths into an “O” at the same time. “Da-da said a bad word!” Caspian says, looking at Harry with wide, grey eyes. Harry nods, widening his eyes to match the boys as they all turn to look at Louis and ugh. They’re so adorable, they make Louis sick. 

 

Louis coughs into his elbow and points his toe to Finnegan’s small chest. “Go wake up Ocean. Both of you.” The twins are out of the living room before Louis can whisper-shout 'walk, not run'. He turns his gaze on Harry who is looking at him with the same expression before his mouth quirks into a grin. “Piss off,” Louis says, thrashing his leg out to hit Harry’s hip.

 

“Heyyyy, no abusing!” Harry sings as he climbs off the couch. Louis looks up at him through his eyelashes, his bottom lip jutting out. “Where are you going?” he whines, making the same grabby hands as their kids.

 

Harry shrugs, “Gonna go make them some breakfast.” He turns towards the hallway, before turning back. “Want another cuppa?”

 

“Aw thanks for adding me as an afterthought, love.” Louis jokes, pulling the blanket impossibly tighter. 

 

“Get some sleep, Lou.” Harry hums and goes into the kitchen.

 

†

 

When Louis opens his eyes again, it’s to the end credits of Rudolph and he has broken out into a cold sweat. The kitchen is loud with the sounds of five kids and Louis begins to mentally prepares himself before getting his ass off the couch because only Lord knows what kind of mess the kids have created already. And by kids of course that includes Harry. The smell of breakfast hits Louis in a gust as he kicks the blanket off, his stomach feeling unbelievably empty after forty winks of sleep. 

 

“Something smells delish,” Louis announces as he steps into the kitchen, table full of children—Caspian and Finn are stuffing their mouths with fruit and sliced hotcakes and the babies—Sebastian and Sailor are half-awake in their high chairs. Louis raises his foot as their puppy Boone runs underneath and back into the living room. Their five--going on fifteen year old daughter, Ocean is rambling to one of her brothers—Finn?— about her latest dream, standing in her big-girl chair and leaning over a piece of construction paper. “Morning Da,” Ocean exclaims, a piece of bacon hanging midway out her mouth as she continues to scribble with a green crayon. 

 

“Sit down you,” Louis says, tickling her sides as he passes by. Ocean collapses into her seat with a cackle and a drawn out 'I ammmmm sitting Daddy'. Two seconds later, she’s standing up again, making Louis laugh at her ADHD. Definitely Louis’ child, Ocean is. Louis makes his way over to where his chef slash husband is putting different fruits in a blender. He rests his chin on top of Harry’s shoulder, pressing a quick kiss to his neck. “Where’s my tea?” 

 

“Lou, you were sleep for, like, twelve minutes. The water is still brewing. Duh.” Harry says, and Louis can hear the smile in his voice even though he’s turned around.

 

“Duh,” One of the twins parrots. 

 

“Be quiet Finn.”

 

“I’m Caspian!” The grey-eyed boy says before putting a fork full of bananas in his mouth. 

 

Louis shrugs and pulls himself up on the counter so that he can see the face he can’t go too long without. (He promises he’s not a lovesick puppy.) “It doesn’t take twelve minutes to boil water.”

 

Harry smiles and turns his head slightly so Louis can peck his lips. “I didn’t say I started the water twelve minutes ago either.” 

 

“Daddy, it’s snowing outside!” Ocean proclaims, looking up from her drawing and Louis gasps quietly, because, like, he always does. Her blue eyes have always been breath-takers because she looks so much like Harry, yet she has Louis’ exact eyes. Weird. 

 

“It sure is monk,” Louis leans over the blender to pull a cup and a teabag from the cabinet. “We should go sledding,” he suggests to Harry who shakes his head. “Well why not?”

 

“Because you’re sick,” Harry responds simply, like that’s the answer to ending world hunger. It’s not.

 

“So?” Louis raises a brow in defiance, which Harry kisses off his face. “Stop kissing my eyebrow, weirdo.”

 

“Your eyebrow is sexy though.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes at the swift conversation change, watching as Harry presses the button to start up the concoction. “What are you making anyways?”

 

“A medley thing for the twins.”

 

“Which set?” Louis kicks his legs and peers around Harry’s stature to the two year olds and the six month olds. 

 

“The babies. Duh.” Harry stops the blender and pours out the weirdly coloured baby food into two plastic bowls.

 

“Don’t be mean, I just woke up.” Louis pouts, swiping a finger into one of the bowls and bringing it to his mouth. It isn’t as bad as the brown colour makes it out to be. (Then again, Louis would eat fried turtle as long as Harry had cooked it.) (Okay, maybe not fried turtle.)

 

“Gotta stay on top of your game Tommo, rain or shine.”

 

Louis shakes his head because one, it’s too early for Random-Quotes-Of-Which-Makes-No-Sense-Styles. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”

 

Harry winks before shoving the bowls to Louis to take over to the high chairs. “Wakey, wakey ‘Bastian,” Louis hums as he shakes the hook of the baby boy’s pacifier. Sebastian startles awake, his dark eyelashes fanning against his tan cheeks before exposing periwinkle eyes. “Hi baby, you want some breakfast?” Smiling around the binky—what he and Sailor call 'Uckey'—Sebastian makes grabby hands for Louis, or, rather, for the spoon he’s currently doing ‘airplane’ with. Whatever. Harry walks over with Lou’s forgotten teacup that is now filled with Yorkshire and like, Louis really wants to get married to this guy again. “You’re perf, babe.” 

 

“Yeah, yeah I know.” Harry winks before gently jostling Sailor awake. “Hi cupcake, it’s breakfast time.” The little girl’s dimple pops out of her chin as she takes her pacifier out of her mouth and claps her hands. And like, how two idiots became bless with five brilliant children Louis will never know.  


Caspian and Finnegan are both beginning to nod off over their plates of chocolate chip pancakes and Louis reaches over to snag two because—duh, chocolate chip pancakes. “What time did they fall asleep last night?” Louis motions his head backwards while biting into a cake. He moans in appreciation and Harry chuckles.

 

“I made you a plate too, you know. But uh, ten? They were up watching Thomas the Train or summat.” 

 

“It was The Grinch,” Ocean chimes in from her seat, where she’s still standing up.

 

“What did I tell you about standing at the table Ocean?” Harry asks.

 

“I’m not standing Papa, I’m colouring. Duh.” Louis bites back a belly laugh at Ocean’s eye roll, exactly like his own. The laughter bubbles out of his throat though when Harry turns to him, the look on his face a mixture of wide eyes, 'What the fuck did she just say?', and an 'I blame you' thrown in there. Louis raises his hands in defense, “Don’t say that, okay Ocean? Papa over here doesn’t like when you say the D word.” 

 

Ocean narrows her eyes at Harry, “But Papa says it all the time.”

 

Harry glares right back, “I can say whatever I want, Ocean.” Louis shakes his head because yeah, here we go again. Like fire and water, those two are.

 

“Then so can I!” Ocean whines.

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I said so.”

 

“Why?”

 

“No, we are not doing this today.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Get your daughter, Lou.” Harry warns, turning back to Sailor. 

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis chuckles underneath his breath and high-fives Ocean. “Atta girl.”

 

“Daddy I’m done with breakfast.” Ocean announces, pushing her plate away.

 

“Yeah Haz, she’s done with breakfast, we can go sledding now.” Louis picks up his cuppa and sips from it.

 

“Sledding?” Ocean asks, her attention back to her colouring. “Is that like a snow wedding?”

 

Before Louis can answer, Harry is clucking his tongue. “No. Sledding is bad. Especially for sick people ain’t that right Lou?”

 

Louis rolls his eyes at whatever accent the lad was trying to attempt, “No.”

 

“You’re sick Daddy?” Ocean’s eyes go wide, the sunlight causing them to go from a raspberry blue to a paler palette. “Do you want to go to the pital?”

 

“No I don’t want to go to the hospital, monk. But thanks for asking. I want to go sledding.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes, “We’re not going sledding.” 

 

“Well why not Papa?” Ocean asks, hopping down from the chair to put her drawing on the fridge. 

 

“Yeah, Papa, why not?” Louis mocks, fluttering his eyelashes over the brim of his cup.

 

“Lou—” Harry gets up from the table and takes the bowls to the sink.

 

“You want to go sledding don’t you monk?” Louis asks, ignoring Harry. 

 

Ocean nods feverishly, her brown curls bouncing all around. “Yesyesyesyesyesyes—”

 

Louis motions for Ocean to come closer and whispers, “I don’t think Papa is convinced yet.”

 

Ocean nods and does her impression of a wink—closing both of her eyes and scrunching up her nose. Louis watches her tiptoe over to the six foot, pajama-clad boy before launching herself onto his calves. “Papa please, pretty please, a thousand cherry peppers on top,” She squeals, Caspian and Finn jolting out of their sleep trances at the high pitch. 

 

“Get away from me you heathen!” Harry jokes, shaking his legs to no avail due to the five year old’s grip. Harry groans as the kitchen turns into a chorus of affirmatives, picking Ocean up by her legs and tossing her over his back. “Fine, fine, let’s go get dressed then,” As he walks past Louis, he reaches out to pinch his side—of which Louis avoids because pinching is so only for the bedroom. “Don’t touch me,” Louis says to which Harry responds with a wink before telling the first set of twins to follow him to the bedrooms. Louis doesn't allow his heart to flutter because it’s been at least ten plus years of Harry-filled winks and he’s not a boy anymore. He’s a dad and he just simply cannot have his heart fluttering because of Harry and the way he handles kids. Their kids. 

 

So okay, maybe he can have his heart flutter. Whatever.

**Author's Note:**

> and ok when I was rereading this I noticed that there's a lot of winks, chuckles, and wide eyes in this story lol. My bad.
> 
> but kudos/comments are like a girl's best friend, yeah?


End file.
